« AnteriorContinuar »
geance on't! there 'tis! now, sir, this staff is my sis | Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blooi, ter; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small than live in your air. as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog : Val. You have said, sir. -no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog, -0, the dog Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. is me, and I am myself; ay, so, s. Now come I to Val. I know it well, sir ; you always end ere you my father ; Father, your blessing ; now should not the begin. shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly father; well, he weeps on :-now come I to my moth-shot off. er, (0, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman;
Val. 'Tis indeed, madam ; we thank the giver. -well, I kiss her ;-why, there 'tis; bere's my mothr
Sil. Who is that, servant ? Gr's breath up and down : now come I to my sister; Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire : mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay || and spends what he borrows, kindly in your company. the dust with my tears.
Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I
shall make your wit bankrupt. Enter Panthino.
Val. I know it well, sir: you have an exchequer of Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is
words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your fol. shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's
lowers ; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they the matter? why weep’st thou, man ? Away, ass ; you
live by your bare words. will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the tyd were lost; for it is
Sil. No morc, gentlemen, no more; here comes my
father the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd.
Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood; and,
Sir, Valentine, your father's in good health : in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy
What say you to a letter from your friends voyage, lose thy master ; and, in losing thy master, lose
Of much good news?
Val. thy service; and, in losing thy service, Why dost
My lord, I will be thankful thou stop my mouth?
To any happy messenger from thence. Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue.
Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman? Pan. Where should I lose my tongue ?
Val. Ay, my lord, I know the gentleman Laun. In thy tale
To be of worth, and worthy estimation,
And not without desert so well reputed.
Duke. Hath he not a son ? ter, and the service? The tide l-Why, man, if the riv•
Val. Ay, my good lord ; a son, that well deserves er were dry, I am able to fill it with my tcars; if the
The honour and regard of such a father.
Duke. You know him well ? wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.
Val. I knew him, as myself; for from our infancy Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call
We have convers'd, and spent our hours together : thee.
And though myself, have been an idle truant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time,
To clothe wine age with angel-like perfection;
Yet hath sir Proteus, for that's his name, SCENE IV.- Milan. An apartment in the Duke's Made use and fair advantage of his days; palace. Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed, His years but young, but his experience old; Sil. Servant
His head unmellow'd, but his judgement ripe ; Val. Mistress?
And, in a word, (for far behind his worth Speed. Master, sir Thurio frowns on you.
Come all the praises that I now bestow.) Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.
He is complete in feature, and in mind, Speed. Not of you.
With all good grace to grace a gentleman. Val, of my mistress then.
Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but, if he make this good, Speed. 'T'were good, you knocked him.
He is as worthy for an empress' love, Sil. Servant, you are sad.
As meet to be an einperor's counsellor. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Well, sir; this gentleman is come to me, Thu. Seem you that you are not?
With commendation from great potentates; Val. Haply, I do.
And here he means to spend his time a-while: Thu. So do counterfeits.
I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you. Val. So do you.
Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. Thu. What seem I, that I am not?
Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth ; Val. Wise.
Silvia, I speak to you ;-and you, sir Thurio :Thu. What instance of the contrary?
For Valentine, I need not 'cite him to it : Val. Your folly.
I'll send him hither to you presently. [Exit Drike. Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship, Val, I quote it in your jerkin.
Had come along with me, but that his mistress Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.
Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks. Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly.
Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchisd them Thu. How?
Upon some other pawn for fealty. Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio? do you change col Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners
still. Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of ca Sil. Nay, then he should be blind ; and, being blin, meleon.
How could he see his way to seek out you?
Fel. Why lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Pro. When I was siek, you gave me bitter pilk;
Yet let her be a principality,
Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
Pro. Except my mistress.
Sweet, except not any Except thou wilt except against my
love. Vel. Welcome, dear Proteus !- Mistress, I beseech Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own? you,
Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too:
Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, To bear my lady's train ; lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower, SL Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
And make rough winter everlastingly. Pru. Not so, sweet kady; but too mean a servant Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? To have a look of such a worthy mistress.
Val. Pardon me, Proteus : all I can, is nothing Pd. Leave off discourse of disability :
To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing; Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.
She is alone. Pre. My duty will I boast of, nothing else.
Pro. Then let her alone. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed;
Val, Not for the world : why, man, she is mine own ; Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress. And I as rich in having such a jewel, Fre. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself. As twenty seas,
if all their sand were pearl, Sil. That you are welcome ?
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Because thou seest me dote upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
with her along; and I must after, SiL II wait upon his pleasure. (Exit Serv.] Come,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy. sir Thurio,
Pro. But she loves you?
Ay, and we are betrothd;
Nay, more, our marriage-hour, When you have done, we look to hear from you.
With all the cunning manner of our flight, Prs. We'll both attend upon your ladyship.
Determind of: how I must climb her window;
The ladder made of cords; and all the means [Exeunt Sil
. Thur. and Speed. Plotted ; and 'greed on, for my happiness. Td. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you
Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber, came? Prs. Four friends are well, and have them much
In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel. commended.
Pro. Go on before; I shall enquire you forth: id. And bow do yours?
I must unto the road, to disedibark
Some necessaries that I netds must use ; iel. How does your lady? and how thrives your
And then I'll presently attend you. love?
Vel. Will you make haste?
I will. [E rit Val. Fre. My tales of love were wont to weary you ;
Even as one heat another heat expels,
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten. With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
Is it mine eye, or Valentinus' praise, Fith nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs ;
Her true perfection, or my false transgression, Fes , in revenge of my contempt of love,
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus ? Love hath chas*d sleep from my enthralled eyes,
She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love ; And maile them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.
That I did love, for now my love is thawd; Q grotle Proteus, love's a mighty lord ;
Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a tire, led back so humbled me, as, I confess,
Bears no impression of the thing it was. to his correction,
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold; fx, to his service, no such joy on earth!
And that I love himn not, as I was wont : ba, no discourse, except it be of love;
0! but I love his lady too, too much ; far can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
And that's the reason I love him so little. Spea the very naked name of love.
How shall I dote on her with more adviec, Pra. Enough ; I read your fortune in your eye:
That thus without advice begin to love her? We this the idol that you worship so?
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld, Feille Exen she; and is she not a heavenly saint?
And that hath dazzled my reason's light; Fre, No; but she is an earthly paragon.
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason but I shall be blind.
(C.tit. 1.0 flatter me ; for love delights in praises.
If not, to compass her I'U use my skill.
There is 10
red. Call her divine.
SCENE V.-The same. A street. Enter Speed and To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better-
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferrd Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am
With twenty thousand soul-confirining oaths. not welcome. I reckon this always that a man is
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do; never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome
But there I leave to love, where I should love. to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose: bostess say, welcome.
If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the alehouse | If I lose them, thus find I by their loss, with you presently; where, for one shot of five pence,
For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia. thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, | I to myself am dearer than a friend ; how did thy master part with madam Julia ?
For love is still more precious in itself: Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair ! parted very fairly in jest.
Shews Julia, but a swarthy Ethiope. Speed. But shall she marry him ?
I will forget that Julia is alive, Laun. No.
Remembʻring that my love to her is dead; Speed. How then ? Shall he marry her?
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy, Laun. No, neither.
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend. Speed. What are they broken?
I cannot now prove constant to myself, Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish.
Without some treachery usid to Valentine :Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them? This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window; it stands well with her.
Myself in counsel, his competitor:
Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not? of their disguising, and pretended flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine; Speed. What thou say'st?
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter: Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but | But, Valentine being gone, i'll quickly cross, lcan, and my staff understands me.
By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift, Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all one.
As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [Exit. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match ?
SCENE VII-Verona. A room in Julia's house. En Laun. Ask my dog : If he say, ay, it will; if he say,
ter Julia and Lucetta. no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will.
Jul. Counsel, Lucetta ; gentle girl, assist me! Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee, but by a parable.
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how Are visibly character'd and engravidesay'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover? To lesson me; and tell me some good mean, Laun. I never know him otherwise.
How, with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.
Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps ; master.
Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly; Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn Of such divine perfection, as sir Proteus. himself in love. If thou wilt go with me to the ale
Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. house, so; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not
Jul. O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's worth the name of a Christian.
food! Speed. Why?
Pity the dearth, that I have pined in, Laun. Because thou hast not so much charity in By longing for that food so long a time. thee, as to go to the ale with a Christian: Wilt thou Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow, Speed. At thy service.
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.
Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire;
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns ;
The current, that with gentle murmur glides,
He makes sweet music with the enamelld stones,
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays, At first I did adore a twinkling star,
With willing sport, to the wild ocean. But now I worship a celestial sun.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course: Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream, And he wants wit, that wants resolved will
And inake a pastime of each weary step.
Td the last step have brought me to my love; But, when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeserving as I am,
My duty pricks me on to utter that L. But in what habit will you go along? Which else no worldly good should draw from me. Jal. Not like a woman; for I would prevent, Know, worthy prince, sir Valentine, my friend, The loose encounters of lascivious men:
This night intends to steal away your daughter ; Gente Lueetta, fit me with such weeds
Myself am one made privy to the plot.
I know you have determind to bestow her
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose O greater time than I shall shew to be.
To cross my friend in his intended drift, Ls. What fashion, madam, shall I make your | Than, by concealing it, heap on your heart brecebes?
A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Jul. That fits as well, as-"tell me, good my lord, Being unprevented, to your timeless grave. E What compass will you wear your farthingale?" Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care ; Why, even that fashion thou best lik’st, Lucetta. Which to requite, command me while I live. Ls. You must needs have them with a cod-piece, This love of theirs, myself have often seen, madam.
Haply, when they have judgʻd me fast asleep ;
And oftentimes have purpos’d to forbid
jul. Loeetta, as thou lov'st me, let me bave And so, unworthily, disgrace the man,
That which thyself hast now disclos'd to me.
And, that thou may'st perceive my fear of this, Lu. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested Jul. Nay, that I will not.
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower, 14. Then never dream on infamy, but go. The key whereof myself have ever kept ; If Prou is like your journey, when you come, And thence she cannot be convey'd away. No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone : Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean I fear rre, he will scarce be pleas'd withal.
How he ber chamber window will ascend, Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear : And with a corded ladder fetch her down ; Athmasand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
For which the youthful lover now is gone, And instances as infinite of love,
And this way comes he with it presently ;
Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence. His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate ;
Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know
Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger Ouh d serve my love, by loving him ;
That stays to bear my letters to my friends, And presently go with me to my chamber,
And I am going to deliver them. To take a note of what I stand in need of,
Duke. Be they of much import? To furnish me upon my longing journey.
Val. The tenor of them doth but signify All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
My health, and happy being at your court. My guaris, my lands, my reputation ;
Duke. Nay, then no matter ; stay with me awhile ; Only, in lieu thereof, despatch me bence :
I am to break with thee of some affairs, Come answer not, but do it presently ;
That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. I an impatient of my carriance. [Exeunt. || 'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought
To match my friend, sir Thurio, to my daughter.
Val. I know it well, my lord ; and, sure, the match ACT III. .
Were rich and honourable ; besides, the gentleman
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qnalities SCENE 1.–Milan. An anti-room in the Duke's pal- || Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter: dee. Enter Duke, Thurio, and Proteus. Cannot your grace win her to fancy him? Duke.
Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, SIR Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile ;
Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Pro. My gracious lorl that which I would discover, || Anki, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
Upon advice, bath drawn my love from her ;
And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
And slaves they are to me, that send them fying: Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, 0, could their master come and go as lightly, I now am full resolvd to take a wife,
Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. And turn her out to who will take her in :
My herald thoughts in thy mire bosom rest them; Then let her beauty be ber wedding-dower;
While I, their king, that hither them importune, For me and my possessions she esteems not.
Do curse the grace, that with such grace hath blesa'd Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? them, Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here,
Because myself do want my servants' fortune : Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy,
I curse myself, for they are sent by me, And nought esteems my aged eloquence :
That they should harbour where their lord should be. Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor,
What's here? (For long agone I have forgot to tourt:
Silvia, this night will I enfranchise thee : Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd ;)
"Tis so ; and here's the laslder for the purpose. How, and which way, I may bestow myself,
Why, Phaeton, (for thou art Merops' son) To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car, Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words ; And with thy daring folly burn the world ? Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind,
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee More than quick worls, lo move a woman's mind. Go, base intruder! over-weening slave!
Duke. But she did seorn a present that I sent her. Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates ; Val. A woman sometimes scoins what best contents And think, my patience, more than thy desert, her :
Is privilege for thy departure hence: Send her another ; never give her o'er ;
Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee. If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But if thou linger in my territories, But rather to beget more love in you :
Longer than swiftest expedition If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone ;
Will give the time to leave our royal court, For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
I ever bore my daughter, or thyself. For, get you gone, she doth not mean away.
Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces ; But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. Though ne er so black, say, they have angels' faces.
[Exit Duke That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
Val. And why not death, rather than living tor. If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
ment? Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd by her friends
To die, is to be banish'd from myself; Unto a youthful gentleman of worth ;
And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her, And kept severely from resort of men,
Is self from self; a deadly banishment ! That no man hath access by day to her.
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen ? Val, Why then I would resort to her by night.
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by? Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock’d, and keys kept safe, Unless it be to think that she is by, That no man hath recourse to her by night.
And feed upon the shadow of perfection. Val. What lets, but one may enter at her window? Except I be by Silvia in the night,
Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground; There is no music in the nightingale; And built so shelving that one cannot climb it Unless I look on Silvia in the day, Without apparent hazard of his life.
There is no day for me to look upon : Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords, She is my essence; and I leave to be, To cast up with a pair of anchoring hooks,
If I be not by her fair influence Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,
Foster'd, illumin’d, cherish'd, kept alive. So bold Leander would adventure it.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom : Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Tarry I here, I but attend on death; Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
But, fly 1 hence, I fly away from life. Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me that.
Enter Proteus and Launce. Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. That longs for every thing that he can come by.
Laun. So-ho! so-bo! Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.
What seest thou ? . Duke. But, hark thee; I will go to her alone ;
Laun. Him we go to find: there's not a hair
On 's head, but 'tis a Valentine.
Then let me see thy cloak; Pro. What then? I'll get me one of such mother length.
Val. Nothing Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord.
Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike ? Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak? Pro. Whom would'st thou strike? I pray thee, let me feel thy clonk upon me
Laun. Nothing. What letter is this same? What's here?-To Silvia?
Pro. Villain, forbear. And here an engine fit for my proceeding!
Laun. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing : I pray you, I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. [Reads, Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear :-Friend Valentine, a My thoughes do harbour with my Silvia nightly;